


Strange Bedfellows

by GoldenJezebel



Series: TURN Ships [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Propositions, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Some Humor, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenJezebel/pseuds/GoldenJezebel
Summary: When Anna propositions Ben, he finds himself torn between pleasure and his strict moral code. (Sexual content warning.Fan art inside is NSFW.)
Relationships: Anna Strong/Benjamin Tallmadge, Caleb Brewster & Benjamin Tallmadge
Series: TURN Ships [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079708
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	1. The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome! If you're looking for sass and trash, you came to the right place. I just wanted to make a quick note that a copper tub would be considered a luxury in camp, so Anna probably wouldn't have one, but given all the stuff in her cart, I figured I'd take a creative liberty there.

A meeting in Anna’s cart in the dead of night, though strange, didn’t sound off any warning bells to Ben’s intuition. Though the moment he actually _entered_ her quarters, he immediately wished it had.

“Oh, sweet Jesus…”

Indifferent to his arrival, Anna kept washing herself in her copper tub, only glancing up to spare him a brief, almost _contemptuous_ look before she went back to scrubbing her arms again. “Secure the flap,” she muttered. “What are you trying to do, give the entire camp a show?”

Ben flinched, swallowing sharply. “Y-you…y- _you’re…”_

Rolling her eyes, she set aside her wet rag and shrugged. “I’m _what?”_

“You’re… _bathing.”_

All at once, her eyes lit up and she laughed. “Goodness! I suppose you truly _are_ the smartest to hail from Setauket.”

“Anna, it’s _not_ funny.” Flustered, Ben quickly moved over and secured the flap, if only to keep his focus on something, _anything_ other than the naked woman behind him. “I thought you invited me here.”

“I did.”

Again, he was met with indifferent silence, so he hissed, “You are _indecent.”_

“Well! There’s no need to call me names, is there?”

“Enough jokes!” Turning toward her again, Ben swallowed and tried to keep his eyes on her face. Anna was presently much, _much_ too comfortable, what with her body being full-on display from the waist up. “Have you no shame?”

“Why? Do you wish to borrow a cup?” When she saw Ben’s upper lip curl, she laughed and amended, “Right, right – _no more jokes._ Sorry.” Sighing, she reclined and sank beneath the water. It came up to her firm, rounded breasts, which brought even _more_ attention to her nakedness as she laid there. “Thank you for being so punctual.”

Rattled, Ben jammed his hands into his breeches’ pockets. “Evidently, not punctual enough,” he snapped. “You are in a state of _undress.”_

“I’d say I’m in a _complete_ state of undress,” Anna agreed, gesturing to her body, “but thank you for _yet again_ stating the obvious.” Her lips quirked into a cheeky grin. “Could you hand me that cloth over there, please?”

Despite it being the clear answer to covering her indecency, Ben remained rooted to the spot.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Anna muttered, “All right, then,” and started to rise from her perch.

“No, no, _don’t!”_ Ben cried, rushing forward just as she cleared the water. Shaking and jittery, he doffed his coat and wrapped it around her naked frame, his breath shallow and almost _painful_ in his chest as they locked eyes. From this close, there almost appeared to be an amber ring around her dark, aphotic irises. He trembled and forced himself to maintain eye contact, if only to avoid peeking down at the soft, supple flesh beneath his coat.

Tilting her head, Anna smirked. “So gallant,” she purred, lifting a hand to skim over his cheek. “Could you be _that_ much of a gentleman, or are you so pure, so _untouched_ that seeing even a hint of flesh gives you the vapors?”

He flinched at her mockery, yet his jaw set like steel. “I am _not_ untouched,” he snapped.

“Oh, no?” Raising her brows, Anna gave him a discomfiting once-over. “You’re behaving as though you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

Ben sighed, frustrated. “I love and respect you, Anna, so yes – of _course_ I’m going to behave differently.” He shifted then, uncomfortable with her closeness. “You are not some common strumpet, so I’m…I am _distressed_ by your indifferent display.”

For once, Anna’s smile wiped clean from her face. “You care that much for my honor?”

He hesitated, uncertain of her change in demeanor, before giving a tight little nod. “Of course I do.”

Drawing her hands across her indecency, Anna pulled his coat in about her shoulders and straightened, lifting her chin to look him in the eye. “What if I told you my intentions were untoward?”

Ben’s mouth went dry, his throat visibly bobbing. “What do you mean?”

“My invitation,” she said as if it were obvious. “I invited you here, quite late at night, and allowed you to see me in a state of undress.”

It suddenly felt much, _much_ too warm. Ben squirmed beneath her sharp gaze, laughing softly. “But why would you wish-?”

“Because it’s been _months,_ Ben. Forgive me for being indelicate, but as a woman, I _do_ have needs. And perhaps I’m wrong, but I would imagine that you do, as well.” Slowly, a hint of her good humor returned. “If you actually took me up on my offer, I feel you would be far more pleasant to be around.”

Ben’s chin jutted. “Anna, what you are proposing…”

“Tupping, blanket hornpipe, bread and butter fashion – whatever you want to call it.”

“Jesus, Anna…”

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “My best friends are _men,_ so I apologize if my speaking like a _man_ offends you.” Expression softening, she reached out and laid her hand over his heart. “And besides…I _do_ care for you a great deal. I know you wouldn’t be too rough, nor uncouth, nor a scoundrel. I can trust you.”

Something in Ben’s stiff posture melted at her admission, and fondly, he curled a hand around her own. “Yes, of course you can, Anna,” he murmured. “I would never…th-that is to say…” Somehow, he still couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. Perhaps he _was_ still a little virginal, given how one night with a stranger hardly screamed of experience. To be frank, sex had been soured for him to a certain degree. Intimacy of that level required trust, and neither he nor Sarah had been truthful.

“I don’t care,” Anna finally said, curling her fingers around his cravat. She tugged on the fabric and drew him down to her level, her lips grazing his as a heated look passed between them. “I just want your hands on me.”

Ben breathed out as though punched in the gut. He felt winded, and when she kissed the corner of his mouth, his hands finally fell to her waist, holding her steady as she deepened her exploration. Sliding her lips over his in a firmer, messy kiss, Anna licked at his mouth and hummed approvingly, allowing his coat to fall from her shoulders while she reached down and cupped him through his breeches.

Ben groaned into the kiss, meeting her tongue with his as her palm rubbed in careful, forceful circles over his swelling hardness. Weak in the knees, a shuddery breath caught between their lips and he staggered, holding onto her shoulders as he felt her smile into their kiss.

“How do you want me?” she whispered.

Dazed, he brushed his lips over her cheek and shook his head, feeling drugged as he weakly said, “I can’t.”

“You _can.”_

“No…”

“Ben, I’m giving you permission.”

Taking an abrupt step back, he swallowed and tightened his fists. Beneath his breeches, his arousal throbbed and strained, and he found himself cursing his damn moral code. “I can’t,” he said again more firmly. “Goodnight, Anna.”

He thought of touching her, promptly ruled against it, and instead turned to stagger out into the cool night air.

* * *

Rather than the evening chill snapping him out of it, as he’d hoped, Ben found himself restless and full of long-suppressed urges when he stumbled into his own tent. Manic and desperate, he unfastened the front flap of his breeches with unsteady, jittery fingers, and then finally exposed himself to his own hand.

With a short, choking breath, Ben got a firm hold on himself and started stroking, fast and hard and rough. Tilting his head back, a series of grunts caught in his throat and he jerked himself harder, a restless, tingling ache shooting up his spine as he found himself barreling closer and closer toward release.

Behind his closed eyes, he could see Anna’s teasing smile – feel her damp skin, feel her _mouth_ – and it made his cock twitch achingly in his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he snarled.

Seeking stability, Ben sank to his knees and jerked off excitedly, his mind’s eye able to conjure Anna lying there beneath him, her sex feeling so warm, so _wet_ as he drove strongly between her thighs. When he tightened his hand around his cock, much as he imagined _she_ would do around his length, something uncoiled deep inside of him and he crumpled, catching his weight against the ground as he came hard across his thighs and the grass.

“Fuck,” Ben swore again, groaning before resting his forehead against the ground.

Where had that come from? Had he _always_ desired Anna in such a wrong, morally corrupt way?

Swallowing, he shakily tucked himself inside his breeches and rocked back on his haunches. With a shuddery intake of breath, he smoothed a hand over his mouth and headed for his cot. He knew sleep would be well out of reach that night.


	2. Giving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a **NSFW image** at the very end. I made it smaller than the actual size, just in case anyone's like, "UHH, didn't want to see that," but I still figured I'd give a warning just in case! It's not that bad (IMO), but I still don't want anyone being surprised.

He avoided her for three days. Three long, _agonizing_ days of skirting around the inevitable, jerking off in shame, and falling prey to more sleepless nights. Ben didn’t understand Anna’s sudden effect over him. He had never been attracted to her – not _truly_ – but after seeing her bright, taunting eyes and rounded curves, he’d become wholly afflicted.

Could he truly backtrack on his stance? Would it make him seem like a scoundrel?

Embittered, he barely reacted whenever Caleb approached and had a seat alongside him with a long, drawn-out sigh. “Shite, I’m gutfoundered,” he muttered, indicating the stew over the fire. “May I…?”

“Please,” Ben said, notably distracted. “Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Playfully jostling the other man’s shoulder, he took up Ben’s empty bowl and started ladling himself a portion from the pot. “What’s got you so addle-pated, huh? I feel a bit as if I’m talking to my own arse.”

Ben huffed, though he was smiling. “You truly have the kindest sentiments.” Rolling his shoulders, he returned his gaze to the fire. “It’s nothing. I’m just a bit tired, is all.”

“Oh, you’re definitely tired,” Caleb agreed, “but you’ve got that look about you… Must be a woman.” His eyes lit up and he sipped some of the stew into his mouth. “Were you in someone’s mutton and didn’t bother telling me?”

Good _Lord._

“I…I wasn’t…I-I just…” Stumbling over his words, Ben scowled and looked away. “Not everything in a man’s life revolves around his hornpipe.”

“No, but it should,” Caleb quipped, grinning. “Why are you getting so upset? If you’ve found someone, I’m _happy_ for you, Tall-boy. It’s about time, too.”

Shoulders sagging, Ben pointed his chin toward the ground. He wasn’t so sure Caleb would be congratulating him if he knew just _who_ was on his mind…

* * *

As fate would have it, Ben was forced to face his fears head-on when Anna entered his tent that evening. It was late – well after midnight, if he had to guess – and with a curse, he leapt up from his cot, still wearing his shirt and breeches.

“You can’t just come in here like that!” he hissed, curling his hands by his sides.

Unimpressed, Anna shrugged and moved over to stand before him. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she accused.

“W-well-”

“Don’t deny it,” she warned. “You’re the truthful sort, and I’d prefer that not change.”

Swallowing his excuses, Ben sighed and rolled back his shoulders. “Very well,” he agreed. “I _have_ been avoiding you.”

“Why?”

“You bloody well know _why.”_

Pursing her mouth, Anna kept hold of the shawl around her shoulders, absently running her thumb over the dimity cloth. “Are you saying we can no longer be friends?”

“I never said-”

“No, but you _are_ acting as though I’m some sort of demy-rep.” Expression softening, she lowered her eyes and laid her hand over his chest, idly toying with the fabric between her fingers. “I should sooner die than have us never be friends again.”

“Anna…” Closing his eyes, he exhaled through his nose, then gently curled his hand over hers. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for.”

“No?” Face filled with doubt, Anna lifted her chin and sought his tortured gaze. “Have you thought about me, Ben?”

Startled by the sudden line of questioning, his chin tensed and he looked away. “I always think about you, Anna. You are one of my dearest-”

“No, no – have you _thought_ about me?” she asked again, her husky timbre taking on a different meaning. They locked eyes, and his throat bobbed with discomfort. Slowly, a satisfied smile filled her face and she nodded. “You have,” she decided. “That’s good…because I’ve thought of you, as well.”

Still keeping his gaze trained firmly on the ground, Ben tensed and shook his head. “I’ll admit that your proposition has been afflicting me, but as an invaluable member of this army, I _cannot_ give way to distractions.”

Anna scoffed. “Don’t distractions often yield to _mistakes?”_ Stepping closer still, she warned him, “If you shut me out now, who’s to say that this ‘affliction’ you speak of won’t worsen?”

Slowly, his eyes lifted to her face, earnest and roving. “Is that all you want? To lie with me?”

“Would I have subjected myself to the embarrassment of asking if I _didn’t?”_ Expression scornful, she unwound the shawl from her shoulders and dropped it to the ground. “I wish for you to claim me – to take me, put your _mouth_ on me, and whatever else you may desire.”

Ben drew a sharp breath. “Are you truly that desperate?”

Unable to help it, Anna laughed. “Is your self-worth so abysmal? Even if you _are_ possibly untouched, that doesn’t make this any less appealing for me.”

“I’m not,” he coolly said. “Untouched, I mean.”

“So you say.” Pleased, she tugged on his shirt and commanded, “Take this off.”

Anna had a forceful, domineering air about her, and vaguely, Ben found himself wondering if anyone had ever told her no. He supposed he would _still_ have to wonder, because his obedience won out and he reached for the hem of his shirt. He tried to ignore her eyes on him – the way they raked in slow, appreciative fascination while he stripped away his garment and tossed it onto his cot.

Uncertain, Anna’s smile wavered once she took in the sight of a musket ball scar, fairly new and pink. “Was this your latest wound?” she asked.

Though a part of Ben thrilled at her unabashed concern, he didn’t wish to speak about Sarah to her, to _anyone._ “It’s no bother,” he snapped.

Anna’s chin jutted, but she said nothing. “Come here then,” she ordered. “I want you to kiss me.”

Ben approached, still sour from her minor inquisition, before reaching out and cupping her face between his hands. They were rough and calloused, but she melted into his touch, rubbing her cheeks into his palms before tilting her head back for a kiss.

Ben complied. Drawing his mouth over hers, he angled roughly into her eager lips and groaned low in his throat, already feeling a pang of arousal pulsing beneath his breeches. Combing his fingers through her hair, he tugged her curls free of her pins and cap, barely parting their lips as he started unfastening the front of her shortgown.

Anna assisted with quick, impatient tugs, and then she moved on to her stays. Ben broke the kiss long enough to look at her – _truly_ look at her – and his breath caught when they locked eyes. She was beautiful. Kiss-swollen and wild and needy, Anna Strong was capable of bringing any man to his knees. Her curls framed her deceptively innocent face, and a deep, hollow ache filled him once he realized that no man – no man outside of himself, her lovers, nor her husband – had ever been privy to seeing her in such a ravished state. Though a simple observation, it inflamed him like no other.

“I want you ready for me,” Anna whispered, shrugging out of her stays and shortgown. The garments fell to the ground, forgotten, and she turned her attention to the front of his breeches. Ben allowed her to do as she wished, his hands skimming over her waist and falling to the gentle, rounded swell of her breasts. That was when she pulled down the fall flap of his breeches.

Ben moved to speak, but Anna curled a hand around him, stroking firm and steady and causing the words to die on his tongue. Instead, a string of curses caught in his throat, and she smirked while sinking down to her knees.

With her hand still working him over, Anna lowered her mouth to his cock and drew him past her lips, her tongue swirling around his tip as he quivered and shook. A hazy look came over Ben’s eyes, and helpless, his hands fell down to grip at her shoulders, anchoring her there against him. He had never been touched in this way before. Men had relayed this sort of debauchery countless times, of course, but he had always shrugged it off, assuming they were exaggerating. But as Anna sucked and stroked his length, he could rest-assuredly vouch that they were _not._

Her name caught in his throat, and as Anna increased the speed of her hand, Ben nearly collapsed when she suddenly stopped. She _stopped,_ and after sparing him one last appreciative lick, she rose and took him by the chin, her eyes dark and almost dangerous.

“On your knees, Major,” she whispered. He hesitated and she drew him down for a kiss, sucking at his bottom lip before stepping back and pulling his chair out from his writing desk. Once she’d set it aside, she hoisted herself onto the surface and leaned back on her palms. A look of amusement crossed her eyes, and then she lifted her skirts up until she’d bunched them around her waist. Ben swallowed at the sight of her indecency.

“Down,” Anna commanded again, pointedly parting her legs.

Admittedly, Ben wasn’t so sure he knew what she wished him to do. Awkward and clumsy, he fell to his knees and gathered her hips between his hands, his face an open mask of embarrassment and arousal as he tried not to stare too long at her nudity.

Brushing her fingers over his cheek, Anna smiled and hooked her legs over his shoulders, gathering him in closer. “Put your mouth on me,” she hissed. It was a command, not a request.

Hesitant, Ben lowered himself between her legs, then gave her sex a slow, experimental lick. She flinched and relaxed into his ministrations, causing him to lean forward and do it again. Anna sighed, then wove her fingers through his hair, parting her legs and _yanking_ him toward where she desired his mouth.

Obedient, Ben lapped at her in measured, purposeful strokes, and when she squeezed her thighs around him with impatience, he felt compelled to thrash his tongue against her in earnest.

While he pleasured her with his mouth, Anna reached down and stroked her bud with hard, fast little circles. He felt her twitch around his tongue, and the taste of her, coupled with her soft, breathy cries made his cock strain painfully between his legs.

Suddenly, Anna wrenched him up by the hair, forcing him to stop. Her chest heaved fitfully, and after taking his chin between her thumb and forefinger, she observed his slick mouth and jawline and drew their lips together. She didn’t mind the taste of herself on his tongue – she merely licked away her essence and plundered his mouth, a sharp, needy ache flaring between her thighs each time he groaned.

Finally, she growled, “Get up,” and tugged again on his hair.

With a hiss at her roughness, Ben unsteadily did as she asked. To his surprise, Anna slid off the desk and turned around, bending over and pulling her skirts up to rest around her waist.

He stared at her for a long moment, bemused. Sarah had done _nothing_ like this with him. She’d ridden him into the bedding, aloof and determined, but Anna… Ben swallowed, appraising her firm, rounded ass with aroused anguish. What did _she_ expect of him?

When Anna glanced at him over her shoulder, exasperated, a sudden look of understanding washed over her and she smirked. “Are you unfamiliar with this method of knocking, Ben?”

He sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t call it-”

“Just fuck me as you would, were I to face you,” she entreated. “Believe me, you’ll know if you go in the wrong place.”

Ignoring the sneer in her tone, Ben swallowed and draped himself over her body, unsteadily holding onto her waist as he pulled her back to align with his swollen cock. When he pressed against her, he discovered that she was slick, _sopping,_ and a shuddery groan caught in his throat. Anna moaned as well, rolling against him with impatience.

Gritting his teeth, Ben steeled himself a moment, then sank into her with a low, uneven sigh. _Fuck,_ she felt amazing. Barely able to remain upright, he sagged against her and moved his hips, starting and stopping with the hesitance of inexperience.

Anna, fortunately, was willing to be patient and spread her legs, leaning down to press her cheek into the desk. “Don’t hold back,” she pleaded.

Somehow, her permission allowed the tension to drain from his shoulders. With his hair falling into his eyes, Ben pressed down on her back and drove his cock deep inside her, his thrusts steady and forceful as a pleased cry caught in her throat.

Eyes dark and wild, Anna’s mouth fell open and she shuddered, lost to sensations of pleasure as he snapped his hips roughly against her bottom. Despite his earlier hesitance, he drove into her with a surprising amount of confidence, his thick cock stroking against her spot over and over, and leaving her legs increasingly useless.

“Oh, fuck me,” she moaned, clutching at the edges of the desk.

With a shaking, trembly hand, Ben wove his fingers through her curls and yanked hard, forcing her head upright. A surprised yelp caught in Anna’s throat, and he was rewarded when she clenched around his driving hardness. Tugging on her curls yet again, he pulled until she was holding herself up on her palms, rocking her hips steadily into him while he stooped to suck a kiss against her pulse.

Drugged on sensation, Ben kissed his way up her throat and Anna turned her head to face him, their lips sliding together in a messy, urgent kiss full of teeth and tongue. He moaned into her mouth and shuddered, his brow creasing when he felt her insides grip around his cock.

“Oh, God,” she whispered into their kiss.

That was when Ben’s tent flap opened beside them. There was acute silence, followed by a low whistle.

“Shite,” Caleb swore, wide-eyed.

“Jesus, Caleb!” Ben hissed, barely able to compose his face as Anna moaned and rocked her hips into his steady pounding. “Get out!”

“You’re finally knocking, eh?”

_“Out!”_

Laughing in unabashed delight, he gave them a mock salute before lifting the tent flap and stepping outside again.

Despite the awkward interruption, Anna soaked him with her release, and Ben slumped against her in aroused humiliation, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips stuttered, pushed into her one final time, and then he withdrew long enough to cum haphazardly across the backs of her thighs.

With a low, breathless exhale, Anna hummed to herself and pushed the hair back from her eyes. “Not bad for a virgin,” she teased, laughing softly.

This time, Ben didn’t bother correcting her. Discomfited by the thought of Caleb _still_ being outside his tent, he tucked himself back into his breeches and re-fastened them with shaking, clumsy fingers. “We can’t do this again, Anna,” he warned.

“Oh, no?” Her eyes twinkled in a way that proved she didn’t believe him, and he flushed when she leaned forward and cupped his face, forcing their eyes to meet. “I enjoyed myself immensely, Ben. Thank you.”

Drawing him down for a deep, fervent kiss, she brushed the hair back from his eyes and pulled away to fetch her clothing.

Ben made a sorry sound at the sight, then turned to fetch his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've honestly had this hoarded for weeks, because I didn't want my trash sullying all the cute holiday fics, haha. But here it is! All finished! I've also got **Anna/Ben/Mary** in the works, and maybe even some other ships, because this show is slowly ruining my self-control. Ahem. Anyway, a link to the Ben/Anna artwork is below, as well as some 18th century slang.
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry.  
> P.P.S. I'm actually not. :P
> 
> Artwork (larger version): https://www.deviantart.com/blood-and-lust-87/art/Ben-x-Anna-Strange-Bedfellows-863653694  
> Slang:  
> gutfoundered: exceedingly hungry  
> in her mutton: having carnal knowledge of a woman  
> demy-rep: a woman of doubtful character


End file.
